


come a little nearer (let me wipe your tears away)

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Crying, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possible Hidden Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, developing feelings, honestly i don't even know what this is myself, so take it in whatever way you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: A sudden rainstorm leads to Sportacus staying the night in the lair.





	come a little nearer (let me wipe your tears away)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written with the headcanon of both Sportacus and Robbie being ace in mind. It has no impact on the story, so imagine what you wish really, but I wanted to say it anyway.
> 
> \--------
> 
> in trying to find a title for this fic i accidentally created a mini sportfy playlist, which, if you want, is here: https://open.spotify.com/user/lavenderchaosquill/playlist/0vv1fSNXgsIHTHdQWnsAkq

Sudden rainstorms were a problem for Sportacus. When it detected heavy rain, his airship was programmed to rise above the clouds in order to protect it from water damage and strong winds. Whilst that is a very helpful thing, it did become a problem if Sportacus wasn’t actually _in_ the ship when it rose. The ship was programmed to lockdown, essentially, when that happens, as a security measure. If he was near enough to the ship when it started to rise, he had about ten minutes to get onto it before it locked up. If he missed that ten-minute slot, he was essentially locked out until the rain lessened enough that the ship no longer identified it as a danger. It was always annoying and very inconvenient, and though Sportacus knew the ins and outs of his ship very well, this was one thing he’d never been able to change and it was quite the pain.

This time, he’d been in Robbie’s lair when the rain hit. They’d formed a bit of a truce over the past year or so, and lately things had been developing into a tentative friendship - enough that Sportacus had actually been invited down into the lair a couple of times for various things, such as to return something Robbie had left behind after a scheme, or to help with a problem in his lair.

Today Sportacus had been helping Robbie with some heavy lifting. Robbie was incredibly strong himself - much stronger than everybody thought - but this simply wasn’t a job for just one person. He needed Sportacus to help hold up some parts of his disguise machine whilst he did some maintenance on it; a rig much too time consuming to build for such a relatively small amount of work, and occasionally handing the villain things, and had ‘lured’ him down with the reluctant promise of a hot cup of tea whilst they worked. Sportacus would’ve agreed to help without, and he’s fully aware that Robbie knows this, but he’s not going to complain. Robbie has some _really_ nice spiced-apple tea.

They’d been sipping their warm drinks whilst they worked, Sportacus keeping one hand on the lid of the machine at all times. They made idle chatter, after a few awkward starts, and Sportacus had dutifully passed tools to the other man when he asked for them - even learning the names of some of the more unfamiliar ones.

He didn’t register the sound of rain at all, neither of them did; the pitter-patter on the ground above the bunker light enough that it faded into the background before it even made it to the foreground. It grew in volume so gradually that by the time Sportacus even _noticed_ it had already been pelting it down for about five minutes.

“Oh _no!"_  Sportacus blurted suddenly, dropping the lid of the machine and taking down Robbie’s periscope. He ignored the villain’s _“Oi!”_ and shoved his face against the viewer, frantically twisting the ‘scope to find his ship. Sure enough, it was already half way up into the clouds. He’d never be able to make it in time, even if he ran as fast as he could.

He sighed, sliding the periscope back up where it belonged and putting his head in his hands, the harsh sound of the rain against the ground above mocking him.

“You could’ve _warned me_ you were going to just up and run, you know,” Robbie growled, wiping grease off his hands with a rag as he walked over. “What's up with you?” he asked, catching sight of Sportacus’s expression.

“My ship’s gone,” Sportacus groaned, rubbing at his forehead.

“ _Gone?_ ” Robbie sputtered, dropping the rag and grabbing for the periscope, “what do you mean gone - did someone take it? Did you _lose_ it?”

“No, no,” the Elf said, “it’s programmed to go above the clouds when it rains too heavily. It’s a safety measure.” He sighed again. “I didn't hear the rain come down, it’s already too late. I can't catch it now.”

“Wait, wait,” the villain said, shaking his hands, “are you saying you’re stuck? Can’t you just call it back down?”

The hero shook his head. “Once it gets high enough it shuts all the doors-”

“Another ‘safety measure’, I presume,” Robbie scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Sportacus nodded sheepishly. “I’m locked out,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Robbie fidgeted for a moment, crossing his arms. “What are you going to do?”

“Just… wait and see if it stops raining, I suppose,” the Elf shrugged. “There's not really much I _can_ do.”

The villain shuffled uneasily on his feet, looking back and forth between the downtrodden hero and the tools littered around his disguise machine. “Well come on then,” he said eventually, nodding his head back to where they’d been working. “I wasn’t going to let you just run off and leave this half done, and if you have to wait anyway...”

Sportacus chuckled. “You’re right, Robbie,” he said, lifting the top of the piano back up. The rain should let up soon, and he might as well spend the waiting time finishing the job he came here to do in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

The rain did not let up.

They waited a solid three hours for the ship to come back down, periodically checking the periscope, before they decided that that just wasn’t going to happen. They’d gone through multiple cups of tea and coco, finished the maintenance on the disguise machine, tidied up, and chatted. Now it was well past 8:08 and Sportacus was _exhausted_. He wasn’t used to staying up this late, but he didn’t have a choice - he couldn't go to bed until his ship came down from the clouds. He’d just have to suck it up.

Some time past nine o’clock, Robbie had apparently had enough of watching him sway on his feet and snapped, putting his hands on the hero’s shoulders and propelling him forwards.

“Robbie what-”

“Shut up,” the villain told him, steering him towards a door at the back of the lair. “I’ve had enough of watching you list about like a zombie. You look like you’re about to keel over.” He pushed him through the door and into a small, cramped bedroom, depositing him in front of a tall closet.

Robbie opened the door and started pulling out a folded pile of deep blue sheets. Looking at the bed, Sportacus noticed that it was completely bare; not even a top-sheet on the mattress.

Robbie dumped the bundle of sheets into Sportacus’s arms, snapping the hero’s attention back to him. “Here, hold these,” he ordered, then turned to pull a duvet and a couple of surprisingly plump pillow out of what Sportacus now realised was a linen closet. (He had thought it was a bit of an odd shape, too tall and too thin to house a significant amount of actual clothes.)

The villain tossed the pillows on the floor at the side of the bed, then took the top-most sheet off the pile in Sportacus’s hands and threw it on the bed. He took the pillowcases too, dropping them down onto the pillows to deal with later. Just left with what he assumed was the duvet cover in his hands, Robbie moved to offer him the duvet.

Sportacus just looked at it.

“C’mon,” Robbie said, shaking the duvet a little.

Sportacus jumped, pulling himself out of his daze and taking the duvet. He slowly flicked out the sheet in his other hand, looking between it and the duvet to try to and figure out how he’s going to do this whilst Robbie started spreading out the sheet on the bed. By the time he’d gotten all four corners tucked over the mattress, Sportacus hadn’t even managed to get one corner of the duvet in its cover.

“What’s the matter?” Robbie asked, straightening up. “Don't tell me you don't know how to put on a duvet cover.”

“No I do,” Sportacus said, trying to push the corner into the right place. “I just haven't had to do it myself in a while. The ship usually does it for me.”

“Of course it does,” Robbie snickered. He watched Sportacus struggle with the duvet for a moment, arms crossed and hip cocked before rolling his eyes and coming over to take hold of a corner. “You’re useless,” he said, helping shove the duvet into its cover.

“I’m not used to a double, it’s harder,” Sportacus defended.

Robbie just rolled his eyes again. “Excuses, excuses.”

After a couple of minutes they had all of the duvet in the cover, the corners all where they should be, and shook it out. Robbie took the duvet from him and chucked it haphazardly onto the bed, then picked up the pillows and the pillowcases and handed them to Sportacus, smirking.

“You can do the pillows, since you took so long to do the duvet.”

Sportacus bit back a sigh and did as he was told whilst Robbie busied himself with straightening out the duvet. He had a feeling that Robbie was going to be lording the fact that Sportacus apparently doesn't know how to put a duvet cover on over him for quite a while.

He was shaking out the second pillow when he realised something. He’d been thinking that these sheets were such a lovely shade of blue before he realised _where_ he’d seen this particular shade before; they were exactly the same shade as Robbie’s turtleneck.

“Robbie, is- is this is _your_ bed?”

“Technically,” Robbie shrugged, fussing with the edge of the duvet. “I mean, I never sleep in it.”

“So, wait - where _are_ you going to sleep, then?” He asked, confused.

“I'll be in my chair, of course,” Robbie snorted.

“You can't sleep in your chair, Robbie.”

“It's fine, Sportadonk,” Robbie waved him off, taking the pillows from Sportacus’s hands and putting them at the top of the bed. “Stop fussing. I do it all the time.”

“You _what?_ ” Sportacus spluttered, “isn't that bad for your back?”

“It’s not a big deal-”

“It _is_ a big deal-”

“I _always_ sleep in it!” Robbie shouted, throwing up his arms.

“No,” Sportacus said, shaking his head.

“What? What do you mean _‘no’?_ ” The villain reeled back in shock.

“I can't let you go and sleep in that chair, Robbie.”

“Y- you can’t tell me where I can or can’t _sleep!_ ” Robbie screeched, “What are you going to do, about it anyway? You don’t have a choice - It’s either you sleep here or you don’t sleep at all, and you’re already practically dead on your feet.” The villain crossed his arms, staring Sportacus down.

“Robbie…” The hero was too tired to argue. “Just- You _can't_ sleep there. I'll feel bad.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Robbie asked. “You can't get back to your ship and I only have the one bed. Are _you_ going to sleep in the chair?”

Sportacus winced. He didn’t want to, but the thought of Robbie sleeping in that chair was awful. It was a big chair, but Robbie was _so_ tall. At least Sportacus would have a _slightly_ better chance at comfort.

“Oh, no,” Robbie hissed, seeing Sportacus hesitate, “no, no, no - you are _not_ sleeping in _my_ chair.”

“But I’m sleeping in _your_ bed!” Sportacus pointed out incredulously.

“Exactly!” Robbie shouted, flinging his arms out at the bed. “Now _sleep there!”_

Sportacus looked at the villain, then at the bed, and then back at Robbie. “Sleep here,” he blurted.

Robbie jaw fell open, staring at him like… well like he’d just told him to share a bed with someone he was barely friends with. “ _What?”_

Sportacus swallowed but didn’t back down. “Sleep here,” he repeated. It wasn’t a _bad_ plan after all, they’d both get some sleep and they’d both be comfortable.

“...In that bed.” Robbie asked flatly, eyes narrowing.

Sportacus nodded. “Yes.”

“With you.”

“Yes.”

Robbie looked at the bed and frowned, crossing his arms.

“Robbie, _please_ ,” the hero pleaded, “I can't bear to think of you curled up in that chair.”

Robbie scoffed, “I'll only curl up in _there_ ,” he said, going red when his words caught up with him.

Sportacus smiled gently at him. “It’ll still be better for your back.”

The villain looked at the bed again, toeing his foot against the carpet and chewing on his lip. Sportacus waited patiently for him to answer.

Eventually the villain looked back up at the hero, though he didn’t meet his eyes. “I snore,” he told Sportacus.

“That doesn’t matter,” The Elf shrugged, “I won’t hear. I sleep like a log.”

“...Are you sure?” Robbie asked, finally meeting Sportacus’s eyes. He looked so nervous and unsure, arms clutched tight around himself and worrying his lip between his teeth.

The sight made Sportacus’s heart ache a little. “Robbie,” he said softly, “I really don't mind. I wouldn't offer if I did.”

Robbie’s eyes flicked back over the bed for a second before roaming around the room. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Sportacus said quietly, trying to convey as much sincerity as he could. He knew he was asking a lot.

Robbie simply rolled his eyes and jerkily turned away, hurrying out of the room.

Not really sure what to do, Sportacus started undressing. Not all the way, of course, just taking off his hat and goggles, his belt, and his outer jacket, and placing them in a folded pile on the small dresser in the corner. He figured Robbie was off getting ready too. The hero had sat down on the bed and was removing his shoes when Robbie came back into the room, carrying a set of silky looking pyjamas. Sportacus looked up when Robbie came in but the villain ignored him, stalking past the bed and going through the door in the side-wall of the bedroom. Before the door closed fully behind him, Sportacus caught a glance of a bathroom.

A few moments later the villain reappeared, dressed in a pair of purple and maroon striped pyjamas. His makeup had been washed off and the gel had been combed out of his hair, lying reasonably flat against his head. Sportacus was still sat on the bed, having put his boots next to the dresser.

Robbie seemed content to ignore him again but suddenly did a double-take, mouth twisting and eyebrows furrowing as he looked the Elf over. “You’re not wearing _that,_ are you?” he asked in disbelief.

Sportacus looked down at himself, startled. What was wrong with it? “...Yes?” he replied, uncertain.

It was clearly the wrong answer, Robbie’s lip curling up in disgust. “Those are your _clothes,”_ he said.

“Well it’s not like I brought pyjamas!” Sportacus, “I didn’t know I would be staying over.”

Robbie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked at Sportacus wearily for a second and then went over to the dresser, pulling open one of the middle drawers. He rooted around for a moment before tossing a worn, light grey shirt and a pair of forest green flannel boxers over to the Elf, who caught them.

“Don’t worry,” Robbie told him, “they’re clean. I never wear them.”

“Thank you,” Sportacus said.

Robbie pointed to the bathroom. “Go change in there,” he ordered. “There should be a spare toothbrush in the cabinet above the sink; if there isn’t… tough.”

The hero nodded, taking the offered clothes and going into the bathroom.

He dressed quickly, pleasantly surprised by how soft everything was. The shirt had clearly once been white, turning grey over time. It was clean and smelled nice though, like washing power, so he didn't have any issue with wearing it. It was a little big even on him - it would absolutely _drown_ Robbie - but to Sportacus that just made it even more comfortable. After spending all day in tight clothes it was nice to wear something a little looser. The boxers weren’t as worn as the shirt, but they were just as comfortable, and were just as clean. He wasn’t used to wearing something like that, his own pyjama pants were always full length, but it wasn’t bad.

There _was_ a spare toothbrush in the cabinet, a red one, still in its packaging. He unwrapped it, putting the packaging in the bin and stole some of Robbie’s toothpaste. It was mint flavoured, which he could handle, and he hummed _Twenty Times Time_ as he brushed. When he was done he set the toothbrush on the side for Robbie to do what he liked with and went to the toilet, flushed it, and then washed his hands and face.

The whole process took less than five minutes and soon he was back out in the bedroom. Robbie jumped when he came back in. He appeared to have been pacing near the door, biting the skin of his thumb. Sportacus gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look as he passed, adding the rest of his clothes to the pile on the dresser.

He knew this was awkward for Robbie. It was awkward for him too, but so much more so for Robbie. He just couldn't make himself sleep in that nice, big bed and leave Robbie to go contort himself into that darn chair all night.

“Do you have a particular side?” Sportacus asked, hovering at the end of the bed.

Robbie snorted a little and shook his head. “No.”

“Okay.” The hero pulled back the edge of the duvet on the right side of the bed and slipped underneath, pulling it up to his chest.

Robbie stood warily at the edge of the bed, fidgeting and avoiding looking straight at Sportacus or the bed. Sportacus didn't say anything, just let the villain take his time. He wouldn't push, Robbie would move when he was ready. Sure enough, after five or so minutes, Robbie turned off the light and slid under the covers beside Sportacus. He kept a good distance between them, immediately curling onto his side on the edge of the bed, his back to Sportacus, and pulling the duvet tightly around him.

Sportacus didn’t do anything to reduce the space between them. This was an uncomfortable situation that he’d put Robbie in and if that lessened that discomfort even a little then so be it.

He settled back into his pillow, arms crossed lightly over his chest, his eyes fluttering shut. Usually he'd be asleep within seconds, especially when he’s _this_ tired, but having another person in the bed with him is a change that meant he couldn’t fall asleep right away tonight.

That was okay. He just laid silently in the darkness, listening to the sound of Robbie breathing quietly a little ways away, and waited for sleep to overtake him.

He felt himself drifting off when a whisper came from the other side of the bed.

“You're really comfortable with this.”

“Yes Robbie,” he replied quietly, “I am.”

The other man was silent for a moment, then the rustling of sheets could be heard as he turned over to face him. “Alright.”

Sportacus turned onto his side, Elven eyes picking out Robbie’s faint silhouette. He was a little closer than before, curled in on himself with his chin tucked against his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Sportacus told him quietly.

Robbie looked up sharply, eyes finding Sportacus’s immediately despite the dark. There was silence for a moment, before Sportacus felt the mattress jump slightly as the villain let out a small sob.

“Oh _Robbie_ ,” Sportacus breathed, slowly reaching out and laying the flat of his palm against Robbie’s cheek. His thumb found tears gathering under his bottom lashes and wiped them away.

Robbie looked at him for a moment, then suddenly shuffled over and buried his face in Sportacus's neck, wrapping his arms around the hero’s waist. Sportacus instantly wrapped an arm around Robbie's back and pulled him close, and Robbie tucked his legs underneath Sportacus’s feet. He felt wetness against his neck and heard Robbie sob quietly in the darkness, his body shuddering slightly in the hero’s arms.

“It’s alright Robbie,” he soothed, sliding his other arm up to cup the back of the other’s head. He stroked the villain's soft hair and felt Robbie clutch at his borrowed shirt, nails digging through the fabric. He pressed a kiss to the side of the villain's forehead, rubbing his hand comfortingly up and down the other’s back. “I’m here,” he told the villain, “I’ve got you. You’re okay, shhhhh.”

Robbie clung to him, crying quietly into his shoulder. Sportacus held him close, murmuring quiet reassurances and rubbing soft circles into his back until started to calm down, his sobs fading to shaky breathing and little hiccups.

After a while, Sportacus’s leg started cramping slightly. He shifted it a bit to stop it and Robbie froze, hands fisting in the fabric of the hero’s shirt to hold him in place.

“Don’t let go,” the villain begged, “Please, don’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to, Robbie, I promise,” Sportacus said gently, petting the hair at the nape of Robbie’s neck. “I just had to move my leg. I’m not going anywhere, it’s alright.” The other man relaxed a little at his words and Sportacus continued comforting him with sweet whispers, warm palms smoothing over the villain's hair until Robbie had all but melted against him.

“I’m so tired,” Robbie breathed when he had calmed down, face pressed against the juncture of the hero’s neck.

“Go to sleep then,” Sportacus whispered, wiping some of the tears away from under Robbie’s eye with his thumb. “It’s alright Robbie, I’ve got you.”

“I can’t,” the villain sobbed, “you’ll leave.”

“I won’t, I promise.” The hero pressed his lips to the other's forehead again. “I’m right here with you, Robbie, and that’s where I’m staying.”

“... don’t let go of me.” Robbie tucked his face further into Sportacus’s neck. “Please, don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Sportacus vowed against Robbie’s hair. “I never will. Whenever you want this - _if_ you ever want this again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He felt Robbie nodded faintly. “Okay.”

Sportacus ran his fingertips over the shell of Robbie's ear, brushing gently over his jaw and cheek and under his eye until the other man drifted off, snuffling softly against the hero’s chest. The Elf smiled fondly, stroking the pad of his thumb against cheekbone.

He waited until he was sure the other man was fully asleep, his breathing deep and even, and only then did Sportacus allow himself to sleep into a deep slumber, Robbie wrapped safely in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happens after this fic, honestly, it just is what it is. Instead of porn-without-plot this is sads-without-plot.
> 
> Believe it or not, this came from me imagining Robbie and Sportacus having to set a bed together after having to set one myself. Then i thought “sharing a bed” bc i’m a sucker for that. Then i had the image of Robbie crying in Sport’s arms in the bed and was like “welp i guess that’s the way this fic is going now.”.


End file.
